Two days later I was at my mom’s. I had no intention of disclosing my recent struggles. We were talking about random stuff when I felt this warmth and calmness come over me. I knew it was the Holy Spirit. I stopped mid-sentence and said, “Mom, I need to tell you something”.
The look on her face matched the fear I had anticipated, but I felt brave enough to go on. I told her that I had been having thoughts that worried me. That I knew it would be good for me to talk about them and that they might even resonate with others if I shared them in my blog. But when I thought about doing so, the person I feared the most in revealing this secret was her. I was concerned that my words would place a burden on her that she couldn’t carry.
I was afraid that I would see her anguish, but there was something different. Maybe she was just putting on a brave face. But what I felt in that moment was that my mom wasn’t making this about her worries. She was making it safe for me to continue.
I shared details about my recent episodes. And that I wondered if my depression would continue to worsen. I talked about Dr. Nolan Williams and Lindsay Clancy and how their reality had led me to consider if a similar heartache would also be mine.
Stating that last part kind of threw me. It exposed my vulnerability. I started rambling to fill in the space. I hadn’t expected to share so I didn’t “rehearse” what I would say. It felt like I was processing as I spoke and also searching for the words that would make sense.
I began to recount what I had gone through the past year and a half. That talking openly about my eating disorder led me to see my unhealthy attachment to alcohol. That hitting rock bottom was hell, but it led to such peace and freedom. That going through the hard weeks of December taught me lessons I might not have learned otherwise.
Maybe it was an effort to avoid the uncomfortableness of dealing with the current issue. Or maybe I was trying to convince my mom that I would get through it. Whatever the case, the truth is that I needed to hear myself talk about them. Because right there in the midst of it, I recognized something familiar. I had been in hard places I had never imagined I would be in but had survived to grow even stronger.
I was beginning to feel hopeful that I would find the way to work through this as well.
I stopped again mid-sentence. I told my mom that I could feel the heaviness lifting. I asked her if she remembered the post where I describe my depression as feeling like a weight across my forehead. I had been feeling this way off and on for over ten days. I believe that telling her my darkest fears were literally lessening the load I was bearing in real time.
So there, I have said it. I have a fear that I may someday move towards making a plan.
It is a worry of what might be and I believe it warrants greater concern. So besides naming it out loud, this has moved me to go back into counseling. I had reached out a month earlier but then pulled back. I was ready now. We had our first meeting September 30.
My counselor has me thinking about things that I would never come up with on my own. It feels a bit daunting, but I am trusting that I will come out on the other side, armed with a better understanding of how to deal with my mental illnesses.
Once again God is there at my side and putting people in my path that will help me face and overcome these struggles.
I’m also pretty sure what comes out of these sessions will also provide massive amounts of material that may be difficult to admit but will keep me busy writing for a long time.
Who is the person you are most concerned about knowing what you are struggling with?
#accompaniment #courage #vulnerability
